


Laundry Day

by verfound



Category: Blue Seed
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Momiji had sworn she would never wear The Panties again, but laundry day can make a girl do desperate things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> Post-BS2. I’m just playing, ‘cause I’m sure we’ve all wondered what happened to The Panties at some point or other.

There was nothing for it.  It had been one of those long, stressful weeks, and Momiji had had no time to rest – let alone do something necessary like chores.  She had only just tackled the growing pile of dishes in her kitchen sink the night before, and by the time she had finished with those she had been too exhausted to do anything besides crash.  Her laundry hamper, which had been her next target, had once again been ignored in favor of sleep – which, really, is what had led her to her current predicament.

 

She stood before her dresser, hands locked so firmly on her hips she was sure she’d bruise.  A fluffy towel was wrapped around her frame, her outfit for the day laid out on the bed.  The only thing missing was, unfortunately, also missing from her drawer.  Her cheeks puffed out in frustration as her eyes desperately scanned the drawer again only to come up with the same results: she had no clean underwear.

 

Well, to say that she had absolutely no clean underwear would be a bit of a lie.  A more accurate statement was: she had absolutely no clean underwear she was willing to wear.  Stuffed back in the furthest corner of her drawer, hiding innocuously in a bunch that disguised their true nature, were The Panties.  They had remained untouched and unworn since That Day, after which she had hastily stuffed them in the drawer, never to be seen again.  Even when she had moved out of Kunikida’s home and into her own apartment a short walk from her university and the TAC offices, she hadn’t touched them.  (A perk of dressers was the way you could move them by removing the drawers instead of the contents, no extra packing required.)  She had sworn she would never wear them again, yet all the same she had also found herself unable to throw them away.

 

Even now that things seemed…better with Kusanagi, she still found they gave her a knotted feeling in her gut.  She couldn’t imagine ever sharing The Panties with him, and with his fascination with flipping up her skirt to check the Animal of the Day she knew they wouldn’t be safe on her.  And if she had to explain them…if she had to tell him about That Day, from her perspective…things were better, but they weren’t that great yet.  He was opening up to the idea of a future with her, but twenty-one years of psychological trauma didn’t just vanish overnight.  Even now, three months from the American Incident, he was still lukewarm at best around her.  Well, ok, maybe a bit more than lukewarm, but compared to other guys and normal relationships she was sure he was glacial.

 

A small part of her mind was willing to hogtie propriety and say she’d rather go commando than wear The Panties.

 

But…

 

Glancing at her uniform, she swallowed thickly.  Skirts didn’t mesh well with commando.  Actually, klutzes and skirts didn’t mesh well with commando.  She briefly considered just grabbing the pair she had worn the previous day, the ones that were sitting within easy reach on top of the hamper, but even that thought sent a shiver of disgust down her spine.  Perhaps…but no, a load of wash would never get done in time.  She would be late for work, and how would she explain that one to Ms. Matsudaira?  “Oh, it was either wash my clothes or wear The Panties.  Yeah, those ones.  I knew you’d understand!”

 

Her rational side chose that moment to speak up, reminding her that it was only a couple hours one day.  It was the last day of the week, and Matsu had only called her in for a few hours.  She would be in and out in no time, and then she could come home and do her laundry.  What’s more, Kusanagi was out of town for the week and wouldn’t be back until the next day, giving her a whole day where he would definitely Not See Them.  She was safe, and honestly, wasn’t it better to just suck it up and wear them instead of going commando or wearing a dirty pair?

 

The groan that tore from her throat sounded more like a dying Aragami than an eighteen-year-old girl.  A final desperate thought had her wishing she was more like Sakura or Valencia and comfortable in two-piece swimsuits – at least then she could just throw on the bottoms and substitute that without anyone being the wiser.  A hesitant hand hovered over The Panties.  She slammed her eyes shut and forced out a breath.

 

“You’re being ridiculous, Fujimiya.  It’s only a couple hours, and he’s not even here to see them.  You have no other options.  Suck it up,” she chided, and in a forced bit of courage she snatched The Panties.

 

– V –

 

She had made it to the office with no incident and plenty of time.  Matsudaira hadn’t said anything, but she had given her a concerned look at what she knew had to be a haggard appearance as she handed her the files she’d be reviewing that day.  She had made quick work of them, and when she found she still had another hour and a half before it was time to leave she had dove into her own research project.  When Matsudaira came in to grab something hours later, she found her passed out at her desk.  The older scientist gently shook her shoulder, jostling her awake.

 

“Momiji,” she called, and Momiji sat up and blearily rubbed her eyes.  “What are you still doing here?  You were supposed to leave hours ago.”

 

“What time is it?” she asked, covering her mouth as she yawned.

 

“Nearly midnight,” Matsudaira said.  She pulled a chair over and sat beside her.  “Momiji, are you all right?  You looked exhausted when you came in today, and now I find you asleep at your desk.”

 

“I’m fine,” she said, giving her a quick smile as she tidied up her desk.  She paused when Matsudaira put a hand on her arm, and her smile turned more earnest.  “It’s my last term at university, Ms. Matsudaira.  I’ve had finals all week.  I’m just stretched a little thin, but I’ll be fine.”

 

“In that case, you should have left when you were supposed to,” Matsudaira said, giving her a smile in return.  She remembered those days all too well, the late nights and stressful cramming leading up to the big tests and bigger headaches.  She also knew it would be worth it in the end, and that end was close in sight for Momiji.  Next week, she’d be graduating.

 

“I know,” she said.  “I finished the files you gave me, and I had some extra time, so I continued working on my research.  I just got lost in it, and the next thing I knew…well, you were waking me up.  I’m sorry, I –”

 

Matsudaira held up a hand and shook her head, smiling.  She said, “You don’t have to apologize or explain, Momiji.  You’re not the first one to lose herself in her work.  It nearly cost me my marriage, remember?”

 

They shared a laugh, and Matsudaira stood with her as she rose and grabbed her bag.  When she turned towards the door and prepared to say her goodbyes, Matsudaira again stopped her.  At her confused look, Matsudaira explained, “Momiji, it’s late, and you’re exhausted.  Let me drive you home.”

 

“M-Ms. Matsudaira, no!  I only live a block away – it’s really not necessary!” she argued, but Ms. Matsudaira only shook her head.

 

“Momiji, I insist.  It may only be a block, but when you’re not at your best it might as well be ten.  Besides, I’d rather not risk Kusanagi skinning me alive because I let you do something so reckless.  He’ll be angry enough that I didn’t send you home sooner,” Matsudaira said.  Momiji snorted and adjusted her bag.

 

“He’s not even in town,” she said.  At Matsudaira’s amused look, she rolled her eyes.  “And he needs to relax, anyway.  He worries too much.”

 

“He loves you,” Matsudaira soothed, “and you’re still a bit of a national celebrity.  It gives him reason to.”

 

Momiji sighed and shrugged.  She supposed Matsudaira was right, but…they had come a long way, especially since San Francisco.  Still, Kusanagi was Kusanagi – even on his best days she could only be half-certain of where she stood around him.  She knew he loved her.  She did.  And she knew most of his protective nature was something so deeply ingrained that he’d most likely never ease up, and she was fine with that.  She just didn’t want him pestering her boss and friend because of something stupid _she_ did.

 

“All right,” she finally conceded, and that was that.  They locked up the lab, and Matsudaira had delivered her to her apartment in short order.  She even went so far as to walk her up to make sure she was inside safely.  When she caught sight of the growing laundry pile in the corner of her one-room flat, Momiji grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

 

“At least the dishes are clean,” she said.  Matsudaira just shook her head and smiled.  She gave the girl a quick hug before telling her to get some sleep.  She made her retreat, and Momiji stumbled over to her bed.  She fell more than sat, landing on her rear with a _thump_ , and made quick work of toeing off her shoes and kicking them across the room.  She then collapsed, and the last thing she remembered was the steady glow of 12:02 on her bedside clock.

 

– V –

 

The sun was just rising when Kusanagi touched down on the balcony of Momiji’s apartment.  The light reflected off the doors, causing a gleam that turned them more into a mirror than windows.  He leaned in closer, briefly examining his reflection.  He could use a good rest, and he looked it.  It had taken him about two hours to return to the city, and that was after a poor night of sleep that had caused him to leave early.  He hadn’t slept well his entire trip, and he knew part of the reason was behind those doors.

 

He had always spent the majority of his time following Momiji around, but since the American Incident, that had included most of his nights at Momiji’s apartment.  And where he had always stayed either in the adjacent tree or her windowsill at Kunikida’s, the past three months had found him…closer.  Same bed closer.  And while they had done nothing more than sleep, he was finding himself so adjusted to her presence sleep was near impossible without her tucked against his side.

 

Honestly, he thought as he slid the door open and walked inside, he didn’t know why he kept his own place anymore.  He was rarely there, and any items he needed on a daily basis (spare clothes, his camera equipment) were already stashed here.  But…she hadn’t broached the subject, and part of him was still afraid to.  For all intents and purposes they were already living together, but to make it official…

 

The thoughts crashed to a halt like a train wreck and promptly burned to nothing in the ensuing fire when his eyes landed on the bed he knew she’d be sleeping in.  Was his jaw hanging open?  He was fairly sure his jaw was hanging open.

 

Momiji was fast asleep on the bed, still dressed in her clothes from the day before.  She hadn’t even crawled under the covers – a sure sign that she must have been exhausted.  That wasn’t what had him so derailed, though.  She was on her stomach, hugging her pillow under her head with her legs curled under her, hoisting her rear just slightly.  Her skirt had ridden up through the night, giving him a clear view of her derriere and the…rather interesting panties that covered it.

 

They were…simple, white, but what was so distracting was the giant pink hearts with ‘I LOVE YOU’ stamped across and, stranger still, his name written beneath them.  His Momiji, his princess, his world, was lying there with her undying love for him being proudly professed…on her ass.  It was so classically Momiji, and yet he just couldn’t see her being so…brazen about things.  Still, looking at the tantalizing way that much-appreciated message hugged her rear, he felt he couldn’t – didn’t want to, really – complain.  Talk about an open invitation…

 

A loud, tinny beeping jarred him from his thoughts, and he froze as she groaned and reached out to grope about her nightstand.  Her hand finally slammed onto her alarm, and as it cut off she rolled onto her side and curled into a tighter ball.  Her skirt shifted, hiking higher and doing nothing to cover the message still being proudly displayed to him.  For his part, he found he had quite literally lost all upper-level brain functions as his focus honed in on those underwear.  Where the hell had she even gotten them?  And how long had she had them?  More importantly, what was she doing wearing them, and why had he never seen them before?  …why was she wearing them, anyway?

 

The thought was enough to spur him into motion, making him drop to his knees by the side of the bed before propping his head on his folded arms near her rear.  She had started abandoning the kiddy pants a while ago, though her style still remained understated and simple: usually just white briefs, used for their practicality and nothing more.  He had never really given her a reason for exploring the more creative uses of underwear, after all – so what had brought about this change?  And when he wasn’t even supposed to be home to enjoy it?  A part of him was thrilled at her bravery, but there was another part that was slightly hurt that she seemed to want to hide them from him.  After all, how many ‘Mr. Kusanagi’s could she really know?  They were obviously meant for him, so why had she never shared them?

 

The snooze alarm sounded, alerting him to how long he had actually been kneeling there contemplating her panties, and he grinned as she groaned again.  She reached back, blindly searching for the clock, and ended up slapping him in the face instead.

 

“Ouch!” he winced, purposefully sounding more injured than he actually was, and she twisted in alarm to see who was behind her.  Her eyes widened in delight as she saw him there, and he grinned back as he reached over and flipped her alarm off.  “I would’ve preferred a kiss or a simple ‘hello’, Princess.”

 

“Kusanagi!” she chirped, sounding cheerful despite the grogginess in her voice.  “I didn’t think you’d be back until tonight.”

 

“I was tired of being away,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand in his own.  “I missed you.”

 

His smile softened as he rubbed his thumb against her skin, and her cheeks tinted a faint red at his confession.  He was learning, slowly opening up and learning to leave his walls behind, but she was still unaccustomed to his more blatant affections.  Her natural shyness shone through in those moments, and he loved that he could still fluster her so easily.

 

“Well…why are you just sitting there, then?  I’m not opposed to a welcome home kiss,” she said, and his grin turned wolfish.  Speaking of flustering…

 

“You were asleep, and I was just enjoying the view,” he said.  She blinked at him, confusion coloring her eyes as she mouthed the word ‘view…?’  He took his hand from her own and pushed her back slightly, once again revealing her underwear to his gaze.  “Gotta say, Princess, I really love the underwear.”

 

“Under…OH MY GOD NO!” she screamed, her face suddenly terrified as she bolted upright, tugging her skirt down and snatching for the blanket as her face turned a deep scarlet.  He jumped back, startled and confused by her violent reaction, and he reached out a hand in concern.

 

“Momiji…?” he asked, concern replacing any desire to tease as he saw the tears starting to gather in her eyes.

 

“Tell me you didn’t see,” she said in a rush, and his frown deepened.  So she had been hiding them from him.  But…why?  And how long had she had them, anyway?  “Kusanagi!  Tell me you didn’t see!”

 

“Relax, Momiji!” he said, pushing himself up onto the bed and trying to get closer to her, but she shied away, shrinking from him like he would strike her.  He froze, hand outstretched and thoroughly bewildered by her irrational behavior.  “What’s the big deal?  I said I liked ‘em.  Why are you –?”

 

“Get out,” she breathed, voice barely audible.  He blinked, eyes going wide, but she slammed her eyes shut and scrunched her face in a furious, pained grimace.  “I said get out!”

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked.  Irritation was beginning to replace the concern the longer she acted up, but she wouldn’t give him a straight answer – wouldn’t even look at him.  “Momiji, come on – they’re just underwear!”

 

“Leave!” she screeched, lunging forward to shove at him.  He rose from the bed, holding his hands up and rolling his eyes as he stalked back over to the balcony doors.

 

“Fine, fine!  Whatever!  Geeze!” he groused.  He hopped up onto the railing and looked back at her, wincing only slightly as he saw her crumpled form on the bed.  “Call me when you stop being so psychotic!”

 

He did his best to ignore the broken sobs that came from the bed as he flew off.  Maybe keeping his own apartment wasn’t such a bad idea after all…

 

– V –

 

About twenty minutes later, when the panic began to recede, Momiji realized that maybe – perhaps, just a bit – she had overreacted.  But in the heat of the moment, as she remembered exactly which underwear she had been wearing and realized _he had seen them_ , a furious blend of terror and mortification colored with the pain of memories and rejection had clouded her mind.  She didn’t even register that he had said he liked them.  All she knew was that Kusanagi had seen _The Underwear_ , and all of a sudden she was fifteen again and feeling that sting of rejection all too well.  What the hell had she been thinking, wearing them in the first place?  And what the hell was he doing back early?  He was supposed to come back later, after she had had a chance to do laundry!  And he…

 

_“I missed you.”_

 

She peeked out from the little ball she had curled into and scanned the room.  Nope, he had definitely left.  He hadn’t even shut the balcony doors on his way out, leaving the cool autumn breeze to chill the room.  She gulped and stood, thinking maybe he was hiding out on the balcony or nearby.  She didn’t know how she felt about that, part of her sorry for her reaction but part still horrified that he had seen… _them_.  Her foot caught on something by the door and she stumbled out, catching herself on the jam.  She looked down and saw his coat and camera bag, a sleeve wrapped around her foot.  Well, that had to mean he’d be coming back, right?

 

She groaned and leaned back against the wall, thwacking her head against the building.  She was such an idiot.  What was the big deal, anyway?  There were just…but she couldn’t even lie to herself.  They weren’t just underwear, any more than she was just a girl.  They were a painful reminder of the worst part of their relationship, and even though she knew things were different now…even though she no longer doubted his affection or commitment, and even though she knew rationally he’d probably love for her to wear them more often…she couldn’t.  To know that he knew about them…that he had seen them…

 

She needed coffee.  And then she needed to do her laundry.  And then, once she was properly dressed with less incriminating underwear, she needed advice.

 

– V –

 

Momiji entered the TAC offices a few hours later with an usually loud slam of the door and a groan.  She walked over to Ryoko’s desk, which was situated outside Kunikida’s office, and plopped into the chair to its side with a huff.  She remembered the fuss Kunikida had thrown over placing Ryoko’s desk there, claiming that if the government was giving them the funds to rebuild their offices she should get her own room instead of sitting outside his like some secretary, but she had waved him off.  She liked her desk being close to his, she had claimed, and his office – while bigger than his old one, which had been nonexistent – wasn’t big enough for two.  The woman in question was currently absent, and Momiji didn’t bother looking up to see who else was present in the main room.  They had had the funds to give everyone a private office, but the only ones who had really taken the government up on the offer were Kunikida and Matsudaira, and Matsudaira only did it because she got a bigger lab in the process.  Kome, when she was around, still had a desk and gun cabinet tucked to the side, and Yaegashi and Ryoko’s desks were both set up in the (admittedly larger) main room.  Kunikida’s door was open, but as he hadn’t yet acknowledged her presence she wasn’t sure if he was actually in there or not.

 

“You ok, kiddo?”

 

She shook her head, not bothering to open her eyes or look up.  At least she knew Kome was in the office now.  After a moment, she answered, “My life sucks and I’m a big, fat idiot who’s going to die alone with fifty cats.”

 

“What?” and there would be Ryoko, accompanied by the sound of the door.

 

“Momiji’s an idiot who’s going to become a cat lady, apparently,” Kome said, and Ryoko chuckled as she walked over to her desk.  She ruffled Momiji’s hair affectionately before sitting down.  Momiji looked over at her to see her filing papers.

 

“I highly doubt that’s the case,” she said.  “After all, you have a boyfriend, and aren’t cat ladies perpetual spinsters?”

 

“Maybe that’s the idiot part,” Kome jibed, and Momiji rolled her eyes as she sat up.

 

“We had a fight this morning,” she said.  The other two women paused, eyebrows lifted incredulously.  She sighed and leaned forward, slumping lower in the chair.  “I know it’s not like it’s our first fight, but…”

 

“Momiji, I’m sure you’re overreacting,” Ryoko said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder in a comforting way.  “And I thought Kusanagi wouldn’t be back until tonight?  What happened?”

 

“He said he missed me, so he came back early,” Momiji said, and Kome snorted as she walked over.  She leaned against the jam to Kunikida’s office and nodded.

 

“Oh yeah, he missed you, so you’re totally gonna end up with fifty cats,” she said.  She reached over and lightly slapped the back of her head.  “Idiot for sure.”

 

“No!  It’s not…it’s…ugh, it’s so stupid!” Momiji wailed, and Ryoko and Kome shared another look.

 

“Momiji, what happened?” Ryoko asked again.

 

“…he saw my underwear,” Momiji finally mumbled, and the other two women blinked.

 

“That’s…it?” Kome asked.  When Momiji nodded, she laughed.  “Kiddo, from what you’re telling us it sounds like any other day for you guys!  What really happened, huh?  It had to be more than just your underwear for it to give the kiss of death to your relationship.”

 

“He saw _those_ underwear,” Momiji said darkly, and Ryoko and Kome paused.

 

“Wait, you don’t mean…” Kome asked, eyes widening in realization.

 

“… _those_ underwear?” Ryoko finished, jaw dropping slightly.  At Momiji’s nervous nod, she asked, “You still have them?”

 

“More importantly, he hasn’t seen them yet?” Kome asked, and Momiji let out a frustrated cry as she bolted from the chair.

 

“It’s not that simple!  It’s…I hate those underwear!  I never wanted him to see them!” she cried, roughly running her hands through her hair.

 

“Then why did you wear them?” Kome asked, clearly confused, and Momiji stomped her foot.

 

“I didn’t have any others!  I had to do laundry, and he wasn’t supposed to come back until later, so I thought it would be safe!  But I was so tired last night, and then he got back early, and…he wasn’t supposed to see them!  And he had the gall to say he _liked_ them!  And he’s…he’s…gah, he’s such a stupid fat-head!” she railed, and the other two sighed.

 

“Momiji…” Kome groaned.

 

“Momiji, you love him, right?” Ryoko asked.  Momiji stopped her pacing and looked down, her face tinting red as she nodded.  “And he loves you.  So what’s the big problem?”

 

“Shoot, kiddo, if you had played your cards right you might have finally gotten laid this morning,” Kome groused, and a choking noise from the office let Momiji know Kunikida was not only still in there but had probably been eavesdropping on their conversation the entire time.

 

“Kome!” Momiji shrieked, looking to Ryoko desperately for help, but her adopted mother figure just shrugged.

 

“You’re both consenting adults,” she said.  “Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t yet.”

 

“Ryoko!” Kunikida’s voice barked out, and she rolled her eyes at her husband.  “There will be no _laying_ until –”

 

“Oh, lighten up, Papa Bear!” Kome sniped, waving her hand at his office.  “Getting those two laid would probably be the best thing for ‘em!”

 

“I’m not hearing this,” Momiji groaned, sinking into the chair by Yaegashi’s empty desk.  She buried her face in her hands while the others just laughed at her.

 

“Honestly, though, Momiji.  Was him seeing them such a bad thing?  Why are you so upset by this?” Ryoko asked.  “If you both love each other, and that’s all the underpants say…”

 

“Because that’s not all the underwear are, Ryoko,” Momiji said.  “They’re…the last time I wore them…I don’t know if he saw them then or not.  If he did, he clearly didn’t feel the same and was too caught up with Kaede to…and if he didn’t, the same holds true.  I just…they make me feel like I’m fifteen again, and that he’s going to do nothing but push me away because he’s either too in love with my sister or too pigheaded and trying to be noble.”

 

“And you don’t want him to be noble,” Ryoko reasoned, and Momiji sighed.

 

“Are you kidding?  She wants him to rip those panties off and –”

 

“KOME!” Kunikida roared, finally emerging from the office.  “I would appreciate it if you stopped trying to get Kusanagi into my daughter’s pants!”

 

“Daitetsu!”  “Kunikida!”

 

Momiji was gawking at him in mortification while Ryoko was leaning back in her chair, arms folded across her chest and eyebrow twitching.  He laughed nervously, lifting a hand from the door to rub at the back of his head as he fished around for a reasonable excuse.  Kome grinned, eager to see how he’d dig himself out of this one, and instead he coughed and crossed his arms, assuming an authoritative stance as he nodded.

 

“I mean yes, they are perfectly capable of doing…things,” he said, “but if neither are ready to take that step I would appreciate it if you stopped pressuring them.  They will get there when they get there.  Hopefully after they’re married and I’m too old and senile to realize what he’s doing to my little girl.”

 

Momiji and Ryoko screamed at him again, and he laughed nervously before raising his hands and saying, “Joking!  Not really!  He touches you and he’s dead!”

 

“Oh my god…” Momiji groaned, slapping her hands over her face.

 

“Sweetie, what you need to do is talk to him,” Ryoko said.  “Go to him.  Explain how you feel about the underwear and let him know that has nothing to do with how you feel about him now.  I’m sure he’ll understand.”

 

Momiji sighed as she looked to her shoes.  She scuffed the toe against the tile and nibbled her lower lip.  She knew, logically, it wasn’t as big a deal as she was making it.  It was just…those underwear…if he saw…she sighed again and closed her eyes.

 

“I should have just burned them years ago,” she groused.

 

“So why didn’t you?”

 

They all looked up in surprise at the one person they had thought would abstain from the conversation: Kunikida.  But he had asked the question, and he was looking at her sincerely.  When she floundered for an answer, he walked over to her and knelt before her.  Taking her hands in his own, he gave her his best supportive, fatherly smile.

 

“Momiji, why do the underwear upset you so much?  If they just say how you feel, and you know the feelings are returned, why did you get so upset?  That’s the question you need to ask yourself before you think about talking to him,” he said.  She looked down, remorse shining in her eyes.

 

“Because I know he loves me, and I know he knows I love him, but those underwear…it’s still too new,” she finally said.  “His actually sticking around, being open about a relationship…it’s still too new.  There’s a part of me that’s still scared he’s going to run off at the first sign of a commitment.  And those underwear…he didn’t respond to them before, so why would he now?”

 

“Sweetie, he didn’t even see them before,” Ryoko said.

 

“And if they bother you that much, you should have just chucked ‘em after that first day,” Kome added.

 

“But…I couldn’t.  Throwing them out would have meant throwing my feelings for him out, and I couldn’t do that,” Momiji said, shaking her head.  “As much as I hate the memories associated with them, I don’t actually hate _them._ ”

 

“So go home, put ‘em back on, and wiggle that fanny for ol’ Kussy boy to see,” Kome said, walking up behind her to slap her back.  At Kunikida’s dark look, Kome groaned and leaned down to put her face close to his.  “She’s eighteen and he’s twenty-one, for Christ’s sake!  If he hasn’t stiffed her yet it’s only a matter of time!”

 

“Kome!” the other three shouted, and the ginger rolled her eyes before walking away.

 

“If he hasn’t given her a lady boner yet, Kunikida, there’s something seriously wrong with both of ‘em!” she shouted as she left the room.

 

“A…a _what?_ ” Kunikida asked, blinking owlishly at Ryoko as Momiji sunk lower in the chair and buried her burning face in her hands.

 

“Oh my God…”

 

– V –

 

Despite the pep talk, when Momiji left the offices half an hour later she was still too wound up to head straight home.  Hands fisted deeply in her pockets, she had huddled into her coat and decided to walk around the city for a bit.  It gave her more time to think about…things.  Like how much of a psycho Kusanagi must think she was after her brilliant display that morning.  Or how little he probably wanted to stick around now.  Or…ok, maybe thinking wasn’t the best of options.

 

But the nervous energy was still there, and she allowed her legs to amble aimlessly through the city with no set destination in mind.  What was the big deal, anyway?  The others were right: they were just underwear.  And it’s not like they didn’t speak the truth, and he _had_ said he liked them, so why did she get so upset?  She groaned and rubbed her hands against her face.  Of course, she knew why.  She hadn’t been thinking, and her reaction had been more gut than anything else.  That still didn’t excuse her behavior, though.  And the longer she walked, the more she began to think it was embarrassment and mortification that kept her from going home.  What if Kusanagi was waiting for her?  Facing him was bad enough now that he had seem _Them_ , but facing him after he’d seen _Them_ and she’d overreacted so spectacularly?

 

Yet her feet had seemed to have other ideas entirely, as when she next looked up to take in her surroundings she found herself outside his apartment door.

 

Despite the brightly-lit hallway, the door itself seemed dark and unwelcoming.  It was simple, plain in its brown wood and metallic letters.  Functional.  She knew the room beyond it would be just as much so.  Spartan, Kunikida would say.  The term aptly described much of what Kusanagi was: _spartan_.  She hesitated only a moment, her hand raised halfway to a knock, before she pulled out her keys and began searching for the little golden one that was hardly ever used.  The way it stuck in the lock when she finally found it spoke volumes to that fact, but after a moment it clicked and opened just a crack.  She took a deep breath and pushed it open further, sticking her head inside uncertainly.

 

“Kusanagi?” she called, but it was dark inside.  Lifeless.  The hall cast an eerie glow on the room as she pushed the door open and stepped inside, and a conflicting feeling took root in her stomach when she looked around.  It didn’t look like he had been here in months, which was most likely true.  He had been spending much of his time since the American Incident at her apartment.  This one had really just been kept for show, or those times when he needed to escape and be alone.  Times like today, or so she had thought.  So where was he?

 

She should be glad to see the flat in such disuse, since that meant he was committing more to her and their future together.  So why did the empty room just upset her?  And, more importantly, where was he if not here?

 

Her trip home was even slower and more aimless than her trip to his place.  Her anger from the morning had simmered away and left an oppressive guilt in its place, and all she wanted to do now was find Kusanagi and apologize.  But despite that, a part of her was still scared – ashamed – of facing him.  She sighed when she reached her apartment door, but the sigh quickly turned into a groan as she raised her hands to scrub at her face and scream.

 

“Oh, will you ever stop messing up everything and grow up?!” she cried.  She squeaked when her front door opened to reveal Kusanagi, his cat eyes blinking at her.  Her face turned a brilliant shade of red even as relief washed over her.  “K-Kusanagi!”

 

He said nothing.  He just stood there blinking at her, and her hands lowered as the relief morphed back into fear and concern.  She swallowed thickly, her throat suddenly dry, and called his name again.  Instead of answering, he threw the door open, took the step that would bring him to her side, and pulled her into an Aragami-crushing hug.

 

“You scared the shit outta me, Princess,” he mumbled against her neck.  He kissed the skin he found there, sending a shiver down her spine.  “Stop doing that.”

 

“I…what?” she asked.  “I thought…but after this morning…Kusanagi, what are you doing here?”

 

“Get in here,” he said, rolling his eyes as he tugged her into the apartment and closed the door.  She saw the stiffness in his shoulders, the uncomfortable way he glanced at the door, and knew it was the idea of talking in the hall where nosy neighbors could wander in at an inopportune time.  He walked into the kitchen, pausing just long enough to squeeze her hand before releasing it.  “I told you this morning, before you went bat shit and threw me out.  I missed you.  And with how upset you were, I was worried.  Figured I’d give you enough time to calm down and come back later, only you were gone.  So where were you?”

 

“Work,” her answer was almost automatic as she followed him.  She lapsed into an uneasy silence after that, distracted by what greeted her.  His coat was hanging by the door, and his camera bag was tucked next to the desk they shared.  The living room looked cleaner, as if he had been tidying up while she was out.  Her bed was even made – something she had neglected to do in her rush to finish her laundry (which was put away instead of in the basket where she left it, she noted) and get out.  A delicious aroma was drifting through the space, and her eyes darted to the kitchen.  He was stirring something in a pot on the stove, but even the kitchen looked immaculate.  (She was both grateful and envious of how he always seemed to be able to prepare amazing, elaborate meals while making half the mess she made just cooking microwave ramen.)  He glanced up at her as he put the lid back on the pot, and it took everything she had not to look back at her feet.

 

“It was getting late, and it didn’t look like you had eaten.  Figured you’d be hungry when you got back,” he said.  He leaned back against the counter next to the stove and crossed his arms over his chest.  He watched her, remaining silent as he waited for more of an explanation.  He had been making an effort in the past few months, trying to be patient and hear her out before automatically blowing up at her.  The time since San Francisco had been the calmest in their usually volatile relationship, another fact that gave her hope for their future.  As much as he loved bickering with her, he was honestly trying to keep his temper in check and avoid full-blown fights.

 

“Wait, how late…?” she questioned, and when she glanced at her watch her eyes widened.  It was nearly five o’clock – no wonder he was…she sighed and walked to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.  She pulled out a stool and sat down facing him, but her eyes remained trained on the hands she fisted in her lap.  “I’m sorry.”

 

“Well, that’s a start,” he said.  More than anything else, his voice sounded weary.  “So you were at the lab all this time?”

 

“No,” she said.  “I…I did the wash first, but I was still upset after that, and I couldn’t stay here.  So I went to the TAC, not the lab.  I was hoping Ryoko would be there.  I…I needed to talk.”

 

“About…?” he pressed, and she huffed out a breath as her fists tightened in her skirt.  Her eyes snapped up to him, flashing in her annoyance, and he held up a hand in defense.  “Hey, I’m just trying to figure out what happened.  From where I’m standing, I didn’t do anything wrong here – but you flipped your shit on me like…Christ, Momiji, what the hell happened this morning?”

 

“You didn’t!” she was quick to cut in.  When he lifted a set of eyebrows at her, she groaned.  Why was talking to him – trying to have an honest, adult conversation – so much harder than their usual easy banter?  “I…I overreacted this morning, and I’m sorry.  You didn’t deserve that.  I shouldn’t have kicked you out, and I shouldn’t have yelled, and I…I’m so sorry, Kusanagi.”

 

He sighed and looked down, closing his eyes as he took a few steadying breaths.  She bit her bottom lip and chewed slightly as she waited for him to do or say anything.  Something that would acknowledge he wasn’t as mad – and, really, she didn’t think he was.  Confused, definitely.  Annoyed at her disappearing for the better half of the day.  Probably hurt.  But…he didn’t seem _mad_.  That had to be a good thing.

 

“So you were at the TAC all afternoon,” he said, breezing over her apology.  She opened her mouth, closed it, and went back to chewing her lip.  He looked at her, frowning in annoyance.  Chewing her lip was a nervous tick, but he had told her before it drove him nuts when she did so – especially after that one particularly nasty fight when she had made it bleed.  He had afterwards told her he should be the only one biting her lip like that, much to her embarrassment.  “Stop that.”

 

“I started there.  I didn’t leave until almost noon, and I was there a few hours,” she said, “but when I left…I still didn’t want to come back.  I was so stupid this morning, and…part of me was afraid you’d be here, and I didn’t want to face you yet.  The other part was afraid you wouldn’t be.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” he bit out.  She looked back to him to see the annoyance was stronger on his face.  “Momiji, you overreacted, yes, but I’m not going to up and leave just because…I was giving you space after you kicked me out.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, and he sighed as he shoved a hand through his hair.

 

“I don’t want you to apologize, Momiji.  I just want to understand why,” he said.

 

“Because you saw my underwear!” she finally shouted.  He raised his eyebrows again, and she groaned as she drug her palms against her face.  “And it’s stupid, I know, but…damn it, Kusanagi, you weren’t supposed to see them!”

 

Before she knew it he was in front of her, reaching up and gently pulling her hands down, and when she looked at his face she decided he looked entirely too amused at the situation – especially since she felt like all she wanted to do was cry.  And really, he wasn’t smiling or laughing or anything like that, but there was that glimmer of amusement in his eyes.  That look that made her feel like he found her funny or adorable in that dumb kid way.

 

“Ok, so here’s what I don’t understand,” he said.  “Why?”

 

“…why?” she asked, and he nodded.  He hadn’t let go of her hands yet, and she absently noted he was rubbing his thumbs against the skin between her thumbs and fingers.

 

“You wound me, Princess.  Remember that before you decided to wear more grown-up underwear my favorite pastime was flipping your skirt to catch the Animal of the Day,” he said, and he was grinning at her.  The ridiculousness of it all made her want to smile, too – so she did.  Until he continued.  “So what I don’t understand is why you flipped out over my seeing your underwear – especially ones as lovely as those.”

 

“They’re not lovely,” she said, her voice bitter.  His easy grin slipped away at the dark tone to her voice.  She looked away, glaring at the trashcan in the corner.  That’s where those damned things belonged, she mused.  She should have just thrown them out after…  “I…you don’t remember them at all, do you?  You really never saw them?”

 

“You mean they’re not new?  Christ, Princess, how long’ve you had ‘em?” he asked, chuckling slightly.  He stopped when he saw the hurt glare she was giving him.  He frowned and squeezed her hands.  “Momiji, how long have you had those panties?”

 

“Yaegashi gave them to me.  I was too shy to come right out and say that I liked you, so he thought they might…help.  And I wasn’t going to go through with it, but before I could change an Aragami started attacking…and then Kaede showed up,” she said, and her smile was bittersweet and pained as she relived the moment in her mind.  She missed the way his eyes grew wide, his jaw slack – the way his grip on her hands became limp.  Like she had just sucker-punched him or thrown a bucket of ice water over his head.  “And suddenly my silly little panties didn’t seem all that relevant anymore.”

 

“Momiji…” he breathed, and she laughed.

 

“I wanted to throw them out, but…and you were never supposed to see them, not after that.  I didn’t have any clean ones, and I thought it would be safe to wear them until I could do my laundry.  Since, y’know, you weren’t supposed to be back until tonight,” she said.  She looked back to him, trying her best to smile despite the tears she felt swimming in her eyes.  God, this was all so stupid!  What was she, fifteen again?  “And I…I shouldn’t have yelled at you or kicked you out, and I was so glad to see you this morning – until you asked about my underwear, and I remembered which ones I was wearing.  And you were never supposed to see them, Kusanagi.”

 

“Because of Kaede,” he sighed, and she nodded.

 

“Because of Kaede.”

 

“And I don’t get any say in whether or not I want to see them anyway?” he asked.  She frowned.  “Momiji, I can understand why you don’t like them.  But reacting like you did because of that?  Because of Kaede?  When she’s happily married to that Aragami bastard and I’m happily here with you?  That’s absolute bullshit.”

 

“But –” she tried, but he shook his head and cut her off.

 

“No,” he said firmly, his eyes steely in their determination.  “It’s bullshit.”

 

She didn’t think it was.  She thought it was stupid, yes, but she still thought her aversion to his seeing the panties was perfectly valid.  They were a painful reminder of rockier times in their relationship, and she didn’t want that memento hanging around.  She wanted to remember the better times: lunch in the park, evenings on dark roofs after a late-night flight, even that stupid wallet with his dorky picture.  She didn’t want to remember feeling so insignificant and insecure in his eyes.  Professing her love only to have it blindsided by her sister.  She didn’t want to remember the days when she felt like nothing more than a poor substitute for the real Princess Kushinada.  The days when just Momiji wasn’t good enough because Momiji could never be Kaede…and Kaede was who Kusanagi loved, not her.  So why did it matter if her ass declared her love for him?

 

“My God,” she groaned, “it really is bullshit, isn’t it?”

 

He chuckled as he pulled her closer, and she groaned again and buried her face in his shirt.

 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said after holding her for a moment.  She mumbled something against his chest, but he shook his head.  “No, Momiji.  I’m sorry.  For this morning and back then.  It is bullshit, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t something important to you.  I’m sorry I was such an idiot back then that I didn’t notice.  And I’m sorry I wasted so long being an idiot – I never should have given you a reason to hate those panties.”

 

“But that’s the worst part!  It wasn’t you – it was me!   I’m the idiot!” she whined, and he chuckled again.

 

“Well, I’m not gonna say you’re wrong,” he said, and she groaned as she weakly punched at his shoulder.  He caught her fist and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles.  “Momiji, what do I have to do to show you I’m in this for the long haul?”

 

“That’s the worst part of it, Kusanagi,” she said quietly.  “You have been.  I mean, yeah, you were an idiot, but you’ve gotten better.  I know you love me, and you actually show it now.  I’m just…I guess part of me is still just a stupid, insecure teenager.  I know you’re committed.  I promise I do.”

 

“Good, ‘cause I’m not above antics to reinforce that belief, you know.  I’ll even get a matching pair of panties if it makes you feel better,” he said, and she jerked her head up to gawk at him.  That twinkle was back in his eyes, and for the life of her she couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.  Matching…panties?  Kusanagi.  In panties.  Gods, now she couldn’t get the image out of her mind…

 

“K-Kusanagi…” she choked out, her voice somewhere between horror and a laugh.

 

“What?  I think I like this idea: ‘I love you, Mrs. Kusanagi’ stamped right across my ass,” he said, flashing her that grin that showed off his sharper-than-normal canines.

 

“W-what?” she gasped, and he laughed.

 

“What?  Some couples have matching towels.  We’ll have his-n-her underwear,” he quipped, and she shrieked as she felt the blood rush to her face.

 

“K-Kusanagi!  Oh my god, you are impossible!” she cried, and he laughed as he pulled her closer, kissing her soundly.  It was only slightly an effort to get her to stop shrieking at him.

 

“You know you love it, Princess,” he murmured when he pulled back, and she shivered at the breath dancing along her ear.  If she didn’t know any better she’d swear he was purring.  “After all, that’s what your ass was telling me this morning.”

 

“KUSANAGI!”

 

Much later, when Momiji was curled up on the sofa asleep with a set of notes for her last final and another round of laundry was tumbling away in the dryer, Kusanagi slipped her phone out of her purse and found the familiar contact.  After a few rings, he grinned as the call was answered.

 

“Hey, Yaegashi, it’s Kusanagi.  I was wondering if you could help me out with something…”


End file.
